


Game On!

by PsychicBeagle



Series: Unraveling Threads [4]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Good times, Inception Joke Goes Here, Mostly One Shots Around Central Theme, Video Game Characters Playing Video Games, kids being kids
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-07-26 01:38:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7555126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychicBeagle/pseuds/PsychicBeagle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An ambassador, a prince, a technically dead scientist, and a technically dead reformed serial killer sit around a virtual reality gaming machine. Good times ensue.</p>
<p>Side story for the whole series, set some time after Spirits Bound. Spoilers for that, but you should be fine reading this on its own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Game

Frisk was beginning to run out of steam, and I couldn't blame them. It hadn't been but a week or three since they had reclaimed use of their legs, yet here they were on a wild goose chase for their brother. A charming young lad to be certain, even if the, ahem, _baggage_ wasn't so desirable, but I would have a great many words for him if his reason wasn't something spectacular.

 

_'How are you holding up?'_

 

_'Fine, Gas, more worried than anything.'_ It simply wasn't like Asriel to disappear as such, his pattern firmly set for a while now. It was rare to find him too far from either Asgore or Toriel's home without supervision. _'Think he's really at the lab?'_

 

_'Well, Bun said she had seen him going that way, so it is the correct path if not the destination.'_ As loathe as I was to think of his second half being near my daughter, I had to admit their track record was agreeable. Several months without laying a hand on anyone. Chara had truly changed, though whether it was through virtue of morals or patience was yet to be seen.

 

If they had not been linked to Asriel, a core component keeping him together, I would have done away with them ages back. But, on top of that necessity, I wouldn't want to upset my own host. Had Frisk not brought my mask into their plane, as well as taken a step beyond by allowing me residence within their own body, I would still be drifting in that gastly dark. I would stay my hand, for the time at least.

 

The door to Alphys's home slid open at once, the camera knowing Frisk was to be trusted. The main room served several purposes at once. The wide chamber held her personal computer, a greatly expanded kitchen (no doubt thanks to Undyne's need for a diet more substantial than ramen, as tasty and conveniant as it could be), and, on both sides, escalators to and from the loft style second floor. Frisk's attention was drawn to the back wall, a series of odd, indecipherable noises echoing from the elevator shaft leading into the laboratory proper.

 

_'Alph must be working on something. If he was here, she'd know.'_ Frisk was among the few Alphys trusted to be amongst her more delicate projects unattended, not to mention what my constant supervision counted for, and, as such, their hand print was of the handful that would be accepted by her elevator's securitry scanner. One quick press saw us zooming down into the depths of her research.

 

The sounds became more distinct as the halls opened before us. Lightning struck, metal clashed, and some form of drink was being consumed in large quantities, but it all had a slight shift in the frequencies, enough for me to pin down its nature.

 

_'If I were a gambling man, I would bet she is testing her mind to video device.'_ Ever since I added my touch to the design, she had been setting aside at least a small portion of research time to study its effects. She was all too happy to enhance her animation viewing experience by inserting herself into her favorite worlds. Last I had seen, she had been fiddling with improving the feedback to the user's nervous system, allowing them to feel the sensations their avatar experienced in whatever video space they chose to enter.

 

_'Hope we're not bothering her by letting ourselves in.'_

 

_'Worry not, Frisk, she should be more than understanding once she knows our motives.'_ Doors passed by, Frisk rushing along as to minimize how much of Alphys's time they would need. The hall was on the dark side, making the one lit room all the more noticeable. We crossed the threshold into it, only to be met with an odd, though welcome, sight.

 

As it turned out, we did not need to ask Alphys where Asriel was. He was laying right in front of us, on a well padded slab. Well, it was more a low end bed than anything else, ensuring his comfort as he was preoccupied by the helmet latched around his head. Viewing goggles sat over his eyes, ear phones over his ears, as they would be, and even some additional portion of machinery placed over his nostrils.

 

The wires fed back into the one part of my gamble that would have payed off, the mind to video device. It was mostly unaltered, save one fine detail. The input device had changed, the markings suggesting that the disc reading port was open to a wider array of content.

 

On screen was something that most certainly was not an anime. The extra displays laying over the main view, a green and red bar, boxes showing a line up of items, a counter full of numbers, told me it was a video game. Possibilities ran through my mind like school children after the final bell in spring.

 

They would have to hold for a while, Frisk taking care of the business they had been on all day. A quick text to Toriel assuring his safety and we were, officially speaking, off the clock. Responsibilities answered, Frisk became as absorbed as I, but not by the technology.

 

_'Dark Souls?'_ I wasn't one to follow games, most of my interest on the machines behind the visuals, so I would have to trust their word on this one's title. The one thing I knew for certain, Asriel was having a rather rough go. A pair of health bars constituted the bottom edge of the screen, neither of which had been depleted any sizeable amount. Asriel's was in a constant state of flux, falling and rising as he was struck and drank what seemed to be the resident health potion.

 

Also of note was his close resemblence to a pinball at the time. Two warriors, bound by golden armor, were crushing him beneath their heels. More accurately, a hammer the size of a mini van and a spear that crackled with electricity. His red and blue, metalic shield did little to help, his body thrown about the oddly familiar cathedral with little resistance.

 

It was only a matter of time before he ran out of health potions, but he had another trick up his sleeve. From off screen, another player entity came swooping in. This one was clad in little more than black leather and cloth, contrasting with Asriel's own silver set, and bore only a dagger. In most cases, I would have called it woefully defficient compared to Asriel's simple, but classic short sword, but the other player's name told me their talent with their weapon of choice.

It was plain as day who it was with a name like Charamander. Just take off the last two syllables.

 

"Hey Chunky, back here!" Their work was swift, hacking away at the rotund knight's heels. It took a decent portion of the health bar labeled Executioner Smough, and pulled his attention from the increasingly wounded Asriel. Chara's lighter armor gave them an advantage over Asriel, allowing them to duck and roll around the slower Smough's hammer. Asriel took his chance, reaching for his last orange flask.

 

What Chara's strategy didn't account for was the opposing knight, presumably Dragonslayer Ornstein, if the health bar was correct. Asriel was halfway through the healing animation when he was run through on the knight's spear. The red bar indicating his life ran dry, his body fading out of the arena.

 

"Asriel!" Chara became distracted. They were only still for a moment, enough to cry out their brother's name, but that was all it took. Smough charged through, launching them skyward in a mostly vertical arc. I stomped down the karmic satisfaction of seeing them dominated, their body vanishing just like Asriel's before them.

 

The screen darkened, the phrase 'You Died' taking up the bulk of the view with a whispery sound. It sent shivers down my phantasmal spine, a good indicator of how much the player messed up. The game cut to a loading screen, and Asriel stirred. He pulled the connecting head gear off, pinching his temple with a slight growl.

 

"What was that, the twelth time?" Now I could see exactly what Frisk and I speaking was like to others. Whenever Asriel spoke aloud to Chara, it was like being privy to only half a functional conversation. Of course, he tended not to do so often, knowing that Chara's presence was unknown by most, and that it was better that way. He thought he was alone now though, hence the looseness. "Let's take a breather, then go again. Thirteen's a lucky number to humans, right?"

 

"Actually, it's three." Asriel nearly leaped out of his fur, but calmed down when he saw it was just Frisk. He gripped his chest, trying to calm the sudden shock. "Thirteen's really unlucky. Number of death. Something about a traitor in old times I think."

 

"Frisk, why do you all jump me like that?" If I were Sans, I would have replied with 'returning the favor.' But I wasn't Sans, much to Frisk's relief.

 

"Mom was wondering where you were. Dark out." Asriel's eyes shrank, and he gulped down what was left of his courage.

 

"Oh man, she's probably so mad! I'm sorry, it's just that Alphys wanted someone to help her test this thing, and I got so absorbed in it I kind of...!"

 

"Az, it's fine. Told Mom you were here. We know how these tests go. Not gonna be mad." They thought about it for a moment. "Well, not too mad anyway." Their eyes were drawn back to the screen, where Asriel's character had risen from death. They were alone in a smaller room, lit only by a bonfire lined by bones, a small sword sticking up from the center. "Having problems?"

 

"Ugh, yeah. This is a tough game, I'm telling you. It was manageable up until now..." Then he paused. "Right, except Blightown." Frisk openly shivered, their understanding coming from an apparent empathy. "Then we got here, took forever to get passed those archers, got eaten by a treasure chest, I mean really, WHAT WAS THAT!?"

 

"Mimics. Worst thing since ever. If the chain's more straight than usual, don't open it."

 

"Now someone tells me. Had to point out the obvious fake wall, not the root of evil behind it. Anyway, we went back to beat it, did it, found our way back to the main hall, and have been getting slapped around by those two for the last few hours."

 

"Ornstein and Smough, the Super Londo Bros. Trust me, you're not alone. Got caught on them for a month first time through." They rubbed a hand on Asriel's tense back.

 

"Thanks, but that won't help me now." Frisk turned back to the machine, thinking. I couldn't not get intrigued by the calculations they conjured up. They were certainly not from the machine's blueprints. How deep was their understanding of this Dark Souls game?

 

"Can Alphys hook me up at the same time?" Asriel blinked, surprised.

 

"You think you could help me?" They put on their most supportive smile.

 

"'Course I can. Know all their tricks. Just need to find my old memory card." They glanced at their watch. "Tomorrow. Bed time's close." Asriel quickly wrapped Frisk in a bone compressing hug. This little family had an inclination for physical support.

 

_'Pretty touching, right?'_

 

_'It's downright_ embracing, _I'd say.'_

　

 

-

 

The time grew closer. Alphys was at work running the last few checks before we were allowed to enter the virtual reality. If she was certain things were perfect now, our entry into a digital space would be in guaranteed safety, while allowing enough realism to make the illusion inseperable from reality, barring the shift in underlying design.

 

"Frisk, you said you had a character to transfer in?" Thankfully, at least one of the scientists in the room was somewhat knowledgeable in gaming. Not as strictly useful as, say, perpetual energy or the study of increasing monster tolerance to human based damage, but a bit of entertainment is needed to loosen the nerves working such projects. Besides, it made Frisk happy, and that was more than enough for me to encourage such pursuits. What can I say? I've a soft spot for children like them.

 

They passed a small memory drive to Alphys, who was swift to find the appropriate port in her expansive computer network. She typed and clicked away, a few short moments seeing the task done.

 

"Okay, it's in. At least, I think it is. Th-This is the right character, r-right?" Frisk smoothed over her worries with a happy nod and thumbs up.

 

"Thanks, Alphys! Owe you one."

 

"Yeah, this is gonna be sweet!" Asriel was just as eager to get back into the frey. Alphys was left blushing.

 

"Actually, I owe you guys. I've been meaning to test this function out myself, but I have so many projects that there hasn't been any time." She walked a circle around the machine in question, its polished casing showing the effort that had gone into what may have become a temporary paper weight. "If we can get this thing working just right, and work in some simplification on the controls on my end, just imagine what this would mean to the world." Of course, access to a virtual space would be invaluable to many fields, not to mention the goodwill it would generate for the monsters who developed it.

 

"All you have to do is write down your experiences when you're done and you can use it whenever you want. Deal?" The hands she had been gesturing with were taken by both Frisk and Asriel, who could not physically agree fast enough. "O-okay, I take that as a yes. There are some pens and paper on the desk over there, and some snacks in the fridge down the hall. Help yourselves, but, uh... the ice cream is, uh..."

 

"Date night?" Frisk's intuition was spot on, a full body blush blooming.

 

_'Those two are simply adorable together. Glad I won't have to actually carry out my threats to Undyne about hurting her.'_

 

_'Same. Remember, my body. Undyne suplex, not fun. Very not fun.'_

 


	2. Darkest Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The king of modern brutality, the heirs of destruction holding its highest peak. What's a goat to do?

My fake body was like an old coat. Worn down, tattered in a few places, but it was still comfy. The Silver Knight armor helped with that. The Gods of Anor Londo really knew how to treat their soldiers, at least until the whole global anarchy thing.

 

I scanned the room, remembering that Alphys looped the others in as summons. Closest was a plain white summon sign, random clawings that looked close enough to letters to work. Standing over it, the little action box hovering at the bottom of my line of sight told me it was 'Charamander.' I didn't comment on their creativity.

 

A mental twitch triggered the summon, Chara's thief character rising from the light. They shook to get acclimated to the new form.

 

"Alright, Az, let's do this!" I could see the fire in their eyes, the fact that teammates couldn't hit each other deeply reassuring. I trusted them now, but not in a space with no physical repurcussions. While they got some test swings in with their dagger, I looked around for another sign.

 

On the other side of the bonfire, a bright, golden sign called out to me. The name tagged with it was 'Renaissance Klowbi.' Frisk had a flare for character names apparently. They could've just called themself Frisky for all it mattered in the end. I needed help, and my sibling was more than willing to help. I really needed to get around to seeing if they'd tell me their gender. Between them and Chara, calling them both my sibling instead of brother or sister was getting awkward.

 

Frisk rose from their summon sign, armor glistening in their own light. It was the same set as that guy who gave me the Estus Flasks. Where did they find it? And where'd they get that pose!? Their arms reaching skyward as they breached into my plain, body laced in gold, was awe inspiring.

 

"Praise the Sun!" Their voice echoed through the cathedral, absolute, dedicated to their cause. They reached behind their head, unsheathing a halberd, slicing through the fire at just the right angle to spark against the sword stuck in its middle. It was so awesome looking that I nearly missed one small issue.

 

In their off hand, where both Chara and I had a shield, Frisk only had a cloth charm, a catalyst for miracles.

 

"How are you gonna beat Ornstein and Smough without a shield?" They smiled at me enigmatically, standing tall without the extra protection that saved me in more than a few places.

 

"Patience, Sir Puff." And that's why I didn't question Chara's name. I wasn't much better. Maybe it ran in the family? "Sometimes, preparations must be daring."

 

"If you say so." I scanned around for our fourth, but he wasn't anywhere to be seen. Frisk saw my curious look.

 

"Gaster needed time to put a character together. Meet us out by the fog gate." He must be taking his time, rummaging through Frisk's stuff to make a decent build. Chara just threw on whatever they found in my pockets.

 

"Enough details. We've got some golden boys to take care of, right?" They were really eager to get another shot. I think they took the killing them thing personally, and you didn't want to make things personal with Chara. I still regreted that prank war way back when. Took a week to get the silly string out of my fur...

 

"Alright, let's show them the power of teamwork!"

 

"...That was, like, really cheesy, bro."

 

"Shut up, Chara."

 

"Don't underestimate jolly cooperation." At least I had one brother/sister/whatever that stuck up for my dramatic moments.

 

-

 

I lost my doubts about Frisk's style when they went to work on the first Silver Knight we saw. They were a strict pacifist in real life, but things made of numbers and electricity must've been an exception. The way they took those three between us and the main hall... Well...

 

I'll just say they have a promising future in scarecrow manufacturing. Though I guess it's easier when they're more focused on the least sneaky thief in existence grabbing their attention with a knife. Turning your back on Frisk was a bad move. I would know, though more metaphorically than anything.

 

Then we got to the second to last attraction, the main hall. I openly groaned at the sight of the two giants below, bodies hidden by bronze armor and towering shields.

 

"Not a fan of these guys?" I was about to say the obvious, but Chara had a huge piece of mind to give someone.

 

"It's not those giant jerks. We'd be fine with that, they're slow as heck. It's that archer over there with his lance arrows that gives us Hell. What's with bow knights in this stupid place anyway?" That was the long and short of it. Even I could slip around them and wait for the shield slam opening. It's when you tried it in a storm of massive arrows that it got annoying.

 

"We've lost so much estus to this place every time we came through. Even if we sneak around to the other balcony to hit that knight, the giants are always following us too close by the time we're done. Falling from the second floor of a God's domain to dodge them isn't the best way to save health." Frisk just patted me on the back, understanding exactly what I meant.

 

"Little trick I found. Best way to take out range is with range." They switched out their halberd, replacing it with a bow. Not just any bow, the same massive bow as those archer knights. "Out the broken window to the left, if you want one." From the quiver on their back, they pulled out a lance of their own. To my and Chara's stunned wonder, they drew it back, aiming it straight at the Silver Knight.

 

"Karma's here." Their arrow spear went flying, crossing the corridor like a shooting star. With practiced aim, it pierced the knight's helmet, pinning him to the wall before he vanished in a bright white light. Frisk turned back to us, one eyebrow raised with a good natured smile, probably judging how to pick our jaws off the floor.

 

"Dibs on the bow." Well, Chara's surprise didn't last long.

 

"Need twenty strength and dex to use it, and arrows are three hundred souls each." Chara froze in place for a second, caught off guard by the high requirements. They only had fourteen strength and, like, ten dexterity.

 

Then they got that look in their eye. You know, _that_ look. The creepy one, and it was only a little comforting that it wasn't at me. No, it was at the giant guards, who dropped a ton of souls.

 

"Welp, we have to kill them anyway. Here we go!" They went running, jumping off the staircase and straight on top of a giant. They stabbed repeatedly at the gap between its helmet and collar, but the assault was interrupted as it unleased a shockwave, a bubble of pure magic blasting them off. Frisk sighed.

 

"I'll cover them." They noticed the second giant turning around, gazing angrily at the crazy thief trying to slaughter its ally. "Keep him busy?" I gulped, but nodded, grip tightening on my weapons.

 

"Right. No problem!" Frisk switced back to their halberd, taking the actual stairs down before lodging the speartip in the back of a giant's knee. I slowly walked down the same path, staring down my target. It might've been slow, but a hit was still a one way trip to the last sliver of my health. Why didn't I put anything into vitality? "No problem at all."

 

I was thrown out of my bubble of self pity when the big guy started pulling back. I fumbled my sword for a second, struggling to keep my nerves steady. It was all in the timing, I knew, but knowing what to do and actually doing it were two different things. I saw the forward thrust coming, rolling to slip under it.

 

But I was a second too early. My momentum carried me back to my feet too soon, head bashing against the shaft of its halberd. The helmet made sure my skull was in one piece, but it was still disorienting, and the dull ringing bouncing around in my armor wasn't helping. It was like a muffled bell, and I was the inside part that shook around.

 

By the time I shook off the stun, its halberd was already coming down for a sweep. I tried again, rolling through the attack. That time went way better, sliding just over the blade. I took my chance, while it was getting its balance back. I hacked away at its ankle, racking up as much damage as I could manage. My time was up when its left arm lifted, hefting up the shield for its deadliest, yet most telegraphed attack.

 

I backed off, getting out of the way as it struck the ground, shaking the foundation of the building. I was far enough away to limit the effect, jumping in for another attack chain.

 

My sword wasn't exactly up to snuff though, that flurry letting up as its health stood sturdily at just under half. My arms were shaking, and my knees were jelly, but I was starting to get in the zone. I stopped trying to be courageous, stopped trying to come out on top, and just did.

 

That sort of zen, that's why I loved the game. Enough to keep playing through every death. When I knew my opponent well enough that every fight became a deadly dance above all else, combatents weaving amongst each other in a blur of strikes, blocks, and counters, the feeling that came over me was unlike any other. The bursts were small, my apprehension a constant roadblock, but they were well worth it. Give me this over drugs any day, it was way more intoxicating. For those few moments, I thought I understood my eldest sibling's mindset just a little bit better.

 

Not enough to condone what they did who knows how many times, but enough to understand what they were trying to reach. Maybe keeping this kind of thing around could curb whatever was left of that hunger.

 

The giant reached up again, shield shining in the golden light. My senses were getting pushed farther than ever, and I got just a little more daring. I waited for a few moments, waiting for the perfect time. As soon as it started slamming down, I went into action.

 

I flung myself backwards, just out of its reach, the shield embedding itself into the cathedral's tiled floor. I landed on the tips of my toes, turning my evasive motion back around. It carried me up, letting me plant my blade between the eye slits on its helmet. I dug in, and kept pushing deeper. It groaned, unable to stop my assault, as the last of its health drained away. I leaped away as it fell, body fragmenting into white fog. I stood tall, letting the sensation of victory warm my bones. I was on top of the world.

 

"Woo, go Az! That was beast!" I was quickly knocked from my perch by Chara, who caught me in a headlock. Then they added insult to injury, rubbing a knuckle into the top of my head. It didn't hurt, strong helmet and all, but it was still annoying.

 

"You're hurt." Frisk pulled me out of the grapple, standing me up straight as they looked me over. I was still kind of dizzy from the hit to my head, but didn't really feel that much pain. I was happy Alphys didn't make it quite _that_ realistic, leaving only a shell of actual sensation from my wounds. "Hold still."

 

They fell to one knee, miracle charm starting to glow. It reached into the air, shaking lightly. Somehow, it gave off the slight ringing of a bell. A soft, white magic flowed out of Frisk, a miasma of healing energies seeking out anything in their area. That included me, magic sinking deep into my skin. I saw my health bar fill back to full, and the ringing subsided, as though I wasn't injured in the first place.

 

"Mmh, thanks. I feel like a million G!" I was so ready to take them on. With a white mage backing us, how could we lose.

 

"That's way too slow." Wow, real optimistic, Chara. "That was a good eight seconds just to heal. Ornstein needs three to put a spear through your face." Well, they did have a point. I'm pretty sure any hits from him would knock them away from the healing circle, cutting it off short. Frisk just shrugged.

 

"So I'll do something else. Not that big of a deal." Their calm attitude was welcome, giving me a little more backbone to work with. That eye of theirs, ever watching, analyzing, settled firmly on my sword. "Maybe you should, too. Little thing's not doing much damage." I looked at it in embarassment.

 

"Yeah, I guess it isn't that great of a weapon. It's just the first thing I had, so I didn't think I should change it. Not the best move, was it?" They scratched their chin, thinking something up that'd hopefully help.

 

"How much titanite you have? What's your strength?" Did they just want to upgrade? I mean, it might've helped, but... I rummaged around in my pockets, pulling out as many pieces as I could find.

 

"Uh, about this much, a few big and small shards, and I think I'm at twenty six, but I need chunks for my sword. I don't think it'd help much any..."

 

"It's fine." They swiped the shiny black stones from me, running off towards the West wall's stairs. "Be back in a minute. Don't go in yet!" I could only huff.

 

"Wow, Frisk really gets into their games, don't they?"

 

"You're one to talk, but yeah. I noticed." My family was totally nuts.

　

 

-

 

　

Chara and me were on our twentieth round of rock, paper, scissors by the time Frisk got back. Hanging over their shoulder, forcing them to slouch, was a giant sword. I mean 'as big as if not bigger than them' giant. They were holding it in both hands, miracle charm latched to their belt.

 

"Sorry about wait. Bat demons got uppity." Did they really take my titanite to build up _their_ sword? I guess I'd roll with it if it helped. The stuff was easy enough to get at least...

 

"After the climb to get in here, those things are at the top of my menace li... EEK!" I was spooked out of my train of thought when Frisk slammed the thing blade first into the ground at my feet. Chara only laughed.

 

"Gosh, Az, you still squeel like that!? Oh man, why can't I have a camera in here?"

 

"Hey, I'm very sensitive about my screeching voice! You know that!" I pulled my ears over my eyes, hiding my shame. Frisk coughed, pushing me to take a peek from behind my cover.

 

"Gonna take your sword?" And like that, I forgot all about Chara's teasing.

 

"You mean, that's for...?" A nod. My arms felt weak, just thinking about trying to lift that thing. And yet, if it hurt me to carry, it must've hurt worse having it cleave through you. If it wasn't the kick in the pants my attack power needed, I didn't know what was. Setting my hand on its hilt, a name came forward in my mind.

 

"Zweihander..." My muscles tensed, blade settled firmly into the ground. "Yeesh, couldn't you just hand it over?" This time, their nod was of the nervous sort. I put my shield away, both hands needed to actually get Frisk's gift.

 

I pulled with all my might. At first, nothing. Then the stone began to give. A little more, metal skid against tile. One more heave, and the floor gave way. I nearly lost my balance, struggling to keep myself upright as the Zweihander's momentum threatened to carry me with it.

 

I held strong, blade pointing to the sky. It was as heavy as I expected, and as powerful as I dreamed. Its base strength requirement was twenty four, the highest of any weapon in my inventory, but the upgrading made sure its damage output was equally towering.

 

I gave it a swing, a sideways slice that covered my entire front half, reaching well over a body length away. Missing was much harder with a hitbox the size of an affordable truck. Of course, that miss threatened to topple me, the unstopped swing carrying too much energy to hold back, and it would still be slow either way. If I could pick my shots well, this would be my best bet for victory.

 

"Okay, I'm sorry about the squeel thing. Just please tell me you won't swing it at me." Two things. One, didn't Chara know that was impossible anyway? Two, how backwards was this? I couldn't help it, giving them the most evil eye I could manage. And yes, I did the jagged thing with my mouth. Transforming was awesome.

 

"Oh, I don't know, maybe I want to be the creepy one for once!" Wow, the gravelly voice was a lot tougher to pull off with flesh than plant stuff. If I wanted to keep it up any longer, I'd need a cough drop. Luckily, I didn't need to, Chara tugging at their collar.

 

"Uh, deja vu, right?" Now they got the irony, and I loved it. I decided to let them off easy, laughing it off.

 

"Powerful, right?" Frisk's knowing grin said it all.

 

"Oh yeah, this is great! I'm guessing a lot of people use this thing in strength builds?"

 

"You have no idea. Pump up endurance if you want to." Well, we'd probably be getting plenty of souls for Chara's bow grinding. Why not?

 

"So, ready to give it another go?" I nodded, slinging the Zweihander over my shoulder, shield back in hand.

 

"Yeah, let's go. Before I lose the ego boost."

　

 

-

 

　

At the top of the stairs, just off to the side of that looming fog wall, was another summon sign. Well, there were actually a lot of signs, mostly gold ones like Frisk's, but those weren't the ones I wanted. No, that one was tucked away in the corner, labelled simply as "Scholar Gassy."

 

I reached out again, opening the portal into my world. The white light erupted out, subsiding as our fourth player took form. He was covered up by simple, blue robes. In his off hand was a small, wood shield. Maybe enough to keep a lightning bolt off, but a direct hit with anything else would probably shatter it. He made up for it with his main weapon, a sorcery staff, which made it so he didn't even have to be in melee range.

 

The most striking piece of his wardrobe was that hat. No kidding, it reached out a whole body from Gaster's head. And that was on all sides. Needless to say, it was extremely difficult just to look him in the eye. I mean, his face was just that theater mask of his, but the point stands. And when I managed to get a glimpse, I saw that gleeful glimmer in his eye socket.

 

"This should be fun. I dare say it will be..." Oh no, he wasn't... "...a gas!" Frisk, of course, bursted into laughter. Chara was left to groan while I rolled my eyes at the whole thing.

 

"Would you people just lean off the puns already? I swear, if either of you say goat instead of got, I will throw myself out a window and invade!" There were plenty around, and Chara didn't have a track record for empty threats. Actually, it was just the opposite. Again, silly string. Never forget. They, wisely, simmered down a little with the laughter.

 

"So, who should we focus first?" Frankly, I didn't have much choice. I just stabbed at whichever one showed an opening. Someone like Frisk, who clearly loved the game enough to know all the tricks, would be better at choosing.

 

"Why don't you call the shot? I mean, does it really matter who goes down first? We'll be taking down their health either way."

 

"Um, have you beaten at least one yet?" Wait, was there a trick here?

 

"No... Why do you ask?" They tapped lightly at the pole of their halberd, eyes tracing a path on the floor.

 

"Trust me, keep your hits on one if you can." That was vague. And menacing. And I'm pretty sure the ego was withering away with every word. "Anyway, who you kill first changes what you get at the end. Kill Smough for Ornstein's stuff, and vice versa."

 

"So, does that include the spear?" Frisk nodded, tucking away that nervousness that still had me on edge.

 

"You need good faith, but yeah. And it shoots lightning." Chara was practically drooling at the thought.

 

"I suppose we should focus the big one first then?" I nodded, my choice heavily influenced by Chara's puppy dog eyes. Would someone explain how a mass murderer could be cute? "Excellent, he should be easy enough to strike with these Soul Arrow things. He is almost literally the side of a barn after all."

 

I scanned our assault team one more time. Frisk was steady, looking almost excited to be staring them down again. They were more than ready. Gaster was in the same camp, though not from past experience. I guess he just didn't know what we were in store for well enough. Chara was bouncing from foot to foot, shaking with energy. They wanted their revenge and spear, and they wanted them now. At least three of us were still confident.

 

"Okay." I gulped. It wasn't just the fear response. I didn't want anything distracting me, including overly abundant saliva. "Let's go."

 

As I walked forward, the fog wall tugged at me. Actually feeling it, I questioned if it really was fog. Sure, that stuff could feel depressing and heavy, but that's mostly emotional. Whatever this was felt like a blob of gaseous gel. Pushing through was a challenge in and of itself, but it did make me want to win more, if only so I didn't need to push through into this arena again.

 

I was almost blinded by the bright, gold hall, even seeing this transition over and over again. It was familiar, a part of me expecting to see a small speck of blue and white at the far side of the room. Instead, there were a pair of golden titans, even the smaller of them almost three times my size. And it was the small one who reacted first, my sight quickly getting taken up by sparking lance. I rolled out to the side, running for one of the pillars. As soon as the health bars appeared at the edge of my mind, I noticed Ornstein's was falling a little, contrary to our plan.

 

"Out of my way!" Chara must have just gotten through, and reflexively struck when they saw how close that attack was. Luckily, Chara was stuck with the very low damage dagger, their attacks more of an annoyance than anything.

 

"Wait, yeah! Chara, keep Ornstein's attention!" They got the idea instantly, rolling around another thrust. They ran to the other side of the room to draw him from the fog gate, opening the path for Frisk and Gaster, but not before stomping on the back of his boot. The others poked their heads in soon after. "Come on, he's open!"

 

I didn't see if they heard me, the thundering footsteps telling me that just standing still was a bad idea. I dropped to the floor, feeling the gust of air from a narrowly dodged hammer swing. I scrambled forward between Smough's legs, taking a light swing of my sword. On top of clipping his heel, dealing out a lot more pain than I was doing before, the weight pulled me ahead even faster. I'm pretty sure that was the only thing that saved me from the butt slam. I don't care how much health you had, getting sat on by him was a death sentence.

 

He was, as you would think from someone that plump, slow to get back up. It helped Gaster's barn wall comparison, not to mention his aim. Turning around to keep up the heat, I saw blue lights bursting around his head.

 

From its place on my shoulder, I threw the Zweihander's tip down with all the strength I had, cutting a swathe through the gold armor. He must've forgot to embue it with magic. Kind of important, since gold was otherwise a weaker metal. Proving my point, his bar dropped like a rock, already down to a third. We really could...!

 

I regretted looking in the new crack. Smough's armor was flabby, slobbish, grotesque, but that isn't what it covered. No, that leg, it was thick with muscle, and glowed lightly. I could almost feel the raw power pouring out. I was glad when he turned on me, but a lot less so when his hammer followed. One swing sent me flying, my entire front side flattening under the blow. My back suffered just as much, slamming against the chest of the big, bearded statue. My health went down even quicker, hanging onto life with what looked like half a pixel.

 

I fell limply to the floor, thankfully without any more damage. I could barely move, body collapsing under its own weight with every attempt to stand. I was only able to flip myself over, face up, by the time Smough caught up. More and more magic blasted around his armor, a small tick on his radar compared to the idiot who broke his fancy leggings.

 

Looking into the eyes of his helmet, I couldn't help but notice the intent. He looked intense, focused, almost hungry in a way. A slight, wet noise slid out from under his mask. Was he... licking his lips? His mallet went up, his silouette reflecting his title as Executioner. At the top of his arc, I knew I heard him laughing, thick and cruel.

 

A new shadow broke the image. It landed on the flat of his hammer, throwing off his balance enough to interrupt the attack. The intruder jumped again, the outline of a halberd burying itself into Smough's. My eyes got used to the bright light just in time to see the spear tip plunge into the base of Smough's neck, between his helmet and chestpiece. He let loose a cry, thick arms struggling to get a grip on Frisk.

 

They weren't in the mood to be manhandled, left hand slowly getting enveloped in the light of a miracle casting. This time, though, the power manifested into a far more dangerous form, raw electricity. It crackled up and down their arm, all flowing into the palm of their hand. It reached out in both directions, a bolt forging itself in their hand.

 

They put more force into their stab, prying open a small hole in his defense. It was all they needed, slamming their lightning with the wrath of a god into Smough's uncovered flesh. His body writhed in agony, muscles seizing up, as he fell to his knees. Frisk jumped off the goliath, wrapping their arms around me. As I was dragged to my feet, the Executioner met with the cold floor.

 

"Frisk, that was..."

 

"Hold the back pats." Their charm rung, the healing waves running over me. I could feel my torn flesh and shattered bone stitching itself back together. "Battle's only just begun."

 

"What do you mean?" No sooner than when the words left my mouth, the unfolding battle answered my question.

 

"No, get back here!" Slow footsteps paced the floor. Without the rumble of his partner's charge, it was a lot easier to pick up on Orstein by sound alone. He stopped, standing over Smough's still warm corpse. He placed a hand on his back, and I thought I heard a muttered prayer.

 

Suddenly, he put more pressure behind the touch. Slowly, it sank into the gold, until it finally shattered beneath his touch. Smough's body evaporated into a golden light, running up and into Ornstein's arm. I could see his armor twisting, changing, expanding. One more strike of lightning tore out from his body, Frisk pulling me as far away as they could manage before I got the message to run.

 

Standing there, as tall as the Executioner before him, was Orstein. His body rippled with unrestrained lightning, the spirit of the storm alive and well. This was what had Frisk so nervous before, the rise of the true Dragonslayer.

 

The scariest thing of all was his health. All of Chara's cuts, no matter how small or large, were made null and void. The bar was back to full, and something told me his new max was higher than before.

 

"There's a stage two!?" I gave Frisk an evil eye, almost betrayed that they didn't tell me that one, kind of important fact.

 

"I don't do major spoilers." Most of the time, I could buy that. In a game like this, I was oriented to think that they just wanted to see me suffer more. That innocent, in game sort of suffering this world thrived on, but still.

 

"Okay, if he's bigger, he should be slower. Good." I only caught a little peak of an amused twinkle in Frisk's eye as they ducked behind a pillar, narrowly avoiding the tackling Ornstein. Nope, he was still fast. I'd go as far as saying he was faster. It was like he was moving with the same speed, but in a smaller world, if that makes sense.

 

Orstein's reflexes were on point, noticing me standing so close and acting on it in a single moment. I didn't have time to slip away from his thrust, falling back on my shield. Metal clashed against metal, and I nearly buckled under the weight. He almost had as much force behind a swing as his partner. My defense held up against his physical force, but it came with a shocking side effect.

 

Well, not actually surprising all things considered, but it did catch me off guard. His spear came with a lightning damage bonus. Guess whose shield didn't block lightning well? Here's a hint, the same guy who had a quarter of his health cut off despite blocking the attack.

 

I panicked, launching a counter swing. It arched over my head, slamming into the floor as he sidestepped around me. He thrust again, this time striking my unguarded left shoulder. My shield arm went limp for a second, long enough for me to get pushed back to the floor.

 

This time, I didn't wait around for the towering knight to gear up a finisher, rolling out of his range. I narrowly avoided a spear to the head, leaving it lodged in the ground. I had a small hope that he would be stuck there, just like I was, at least long enough for me to get to my feet. I was up on one knee when the spearhead flew from its spot, chunks of marble flying everywhere. Ornstein stared me down, pointedly ignoring the magic blasting over him and the knife strikes to the back of his legs. They didn't do much damage anyway, and they didn't murder his teammate.

 

What did leave a mark was a sudden fireball blasting over his face. His eyeholes were covered in embers and smoke. Standing a few columns down, Frisk had switched out their miracle charm. In its place was a blackened glove, red, glowing lines woven about its surface. The smoke rolling from their fingers said all I needed to hear. I took my chance, yanking the golden bottle off my belt and throwing down a few mouthfuls...

 

...Hmm, lemony.

 

The pillar standing over me was blown away by a bolt of lightning, the perfect sign that I had rested long enough. I hopped up on the stump left over, Frisk covering me with a steady stream of fire. I was acutely aware of every chunk of rock and pebble on the ground ahead. The last thing I needed was slipping on a ruined piece of rock. Ornstein saw me coming slipping by a fireball and aiming his spear for another bolt.

 

His focus was broken by the thief latching themself to his waist. Chara barely held on by the folds in his leggings. Ornstein leaped straight up, almost to the ceiling, falling back to earth with the weight of a mountain. The wind was blown from Chara's lungs, taking their health down to a few hairs from death. He rose the tip of his spear, aiming to finish off at least one of his nuisances.

 

One more Soul Arrow struck home on his wrist. His already strained hand was forced to release its grip, spear clattering to the ground. He was overwhelmed on all fronts, each attempt to stand halted by a stream of fire and magic, the thinnest layers of his armor sniffed out and exploited by his stab happy tick, and I was coming up the front, two handing the Zweihander.

 

He wasn't going down without one last hurrah, good hand grabbing Chara by the head. They struggled against his grip, swinging wildly at his wrist, but he didn't plan on keeping them long anyway. They were hurled through the air, distracting Frisk. I knew they could have dodged and kept up their attack, but they weren't risking the life of a friend. They dove for Chara, landing just under them to negate the fall damage. It wasn't a victory if one of us died for it.

 

Orstein put the last of his energy into one last move, a headlong, unarmed charge. I saw the electricity crackling over his armor, charging itself with whatever he had left. It all flowed into his right hand, a solid gauntlet of lightning. It swung forward, trying to cut my own assault short.

 

He was fast, but he still telegraphed heavily. You could see this attack coming a mile away. Granted, it was a last ditch effort, but I wouldn't let him off the hook. I waited until it was all I could see, eyes burning from the bright light of his knuckles, before I swung. His attack was derailed, balance thrown to his right.

 

He was on his last leg, struggling to stand straight, and I took full advantage. It wasn't like he gave any breathing room. I took a cool stance, hands clasped around the hilt of my Zweihander, legs spread just so. One thrust, and it was lodged firmly in Ornstein's face plate.

 

He struggled a little longer, but his wounds were too much. His arms dangled uselessly, body suspended only by my sword, before he evaporated into light. A wave of relief flooded over me, all tension wiped away. I felt lightheaded, but happy, the golden prompt of "You Defeated" confirming what my own senses could barely believe. Chara jumping me, wrapping an arm around my neck, didn't hurt either.

 

"WE DID IT! Finally!" The smile on their face was almost enough to rip it in two.

 

"Huzzah, we are victorious!"

 

"Not bad Gassy, especially for a rookie." Frisk found their way between us, letting off a healing spell. It was exactly what I needed, kicking a bit of sense back into me. "Chara, I noticed you took a lot of hits." Their hold on me tightened, a sure sign that they knew Frisk was right.

 

"Well, I guess I'm not so great with this sort of slow, hit by hit combat. I'm more agressive than that, but it usually ends up hurting me more than them." I really didn't like that smile Frisk was getting.

 

"Tell you what. Help us beat Dark Souls and I'll show you a game more up your alley."

 

"Sounds like a challenge. What the heck, I'm in!" Good, I could use all the help I could get. "Alright, let's see what these guys were guarding. Then we can get to that soul grinding. I'm not leaving this place until I can put a spear arrow through one of those giants' heads!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I think that's the longest chapter I've written so far. I say "I think" because my new text document doesn't actually have a word counter. Oh well, it's a fusion of Dark Souls and Undertale. I could write a novel on either of those alone...
> 
> Oh wait.


	3. A Neathy Caper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who would trifle with a bear?

A flock of bats screamed past, unhindered by the darkness of the marsh. Most people would call me mad, settling in a place like this. Wolves, fungus towers, rats of every size and allignment, the dangers seemed to be plucked from the greatest academic's own nightmares, but I was not afraid. No, any beast who passed me knew who was higher on the chain with but a glance into my blood red eyes.

 

My arrival was tolled by the jingle at my side, a hefty pouch of rostygold. Anyone of sound mind would steer clear, my newest haul a sign of my blood stained profession. Who? Why? It didn't matter. I was paid well, that was all the common men, women, and molusks needed to know not to cross me. The black ribbon on my forearm fluttered in the breeze. I plucked a ring of rostygold from the stash, flipping it casually in my hand to pass time.

 

The mud line around my legs lowered, and the tree density fell ever so slightly. I was almost home, which was a comforting thought. As good as I was at my job, there were always those few who could land a stiff hit. They were the most fun to square off with, but the groans of the cuts and bruises were no more quiet for it.

 

Past the knarled tree, lined with strings of rats as a warning for any new invaders, my little shack came into view. It wasn't much of a looker, certainly, but the privacy was well worth it. Leave the fancy designs to those honey sippers in Veilgarden. Yeah, I liked keeping things simple. All I needed was my lodge in the middle of scenic nowhere, closed up tight to prevent unwanted...

 

Why were the lights on? I always put out the candles on my way out, save on the wax. And those screams... someone was in my primordeal scream stash! I'd recognize the ravings anywhere.

 

They got even louder when the window popped open. Some shadowy figure hopped onto the windowsill, a sack leasing mind shattering shouts slung over their shoulder. There was another on their other arm, but it was far smaller, and markedly less noisey. I couldn't rightly say what was in it, but I knew one thing. It was mine. And so was this footpad's head when I caught them!

 

They noticed me the second I picked up the pace. Even with my teeth bared, rostygold clattering with the weight of every soul I've put in a casket, they didn't even flinch. In fact, they saluted me with two fingers, flinging themself from the window. That just riled me up more, raw adrenaline overpowering the day's weariness.

 

They were faster than I expected. Even fueled by unholy rage, they were consistently keeping ahead. Somehow, this thief seemed unhindered by the swampy turf. I guessed it was something in the shoes, something I dearly wished to know once I stripped them from their momentary corpse, but it was far too dark to tell. I wasn't gaining any ground, but I wasn't losing any either.

 

I needed to tip the odds. This one didn't seem interested in curving their path, a constant straight line between them and me. The perfect chance for my R.F. fashioned revolver. Say what you will about the Fabers, they knew how to bribe their way out of extermination. I lined up the sights, a single bullet all I would need to wipe their lead away.

 

Their body turned ever so slightly my way, and I saw a hand slide across their shadowed form. A moment later, a piercing pain lodged itself in my ribs. It was some sort of knife, and I could feel how finely serrated its edge was. It dug into flesh with every step, forcing me to stop before it found its way to something important. I could only watch as the thief escaped my sight, primordeal screams and whatever was in the small bag in tow.

 

I wasn't a doctor, but I was fairly sure leaving the blade in there was far more dangerous than the blood loss from pulling it out. I did just that, the slow trickle of red more than tolerable. It was then that I saw the paper, wrapped around its hilt. Unraveling the roll, I found it contained a message.

 

_'Afraid you had some things I needed. Nothing personal. If you have a problem, then you had best reach for the sky. But beware, the mad ones don't care for disturbances, or sense for that matter.'_

 

My grip tightened, and my teeth ached from how roughly they were ground together. Whoever this thief was, I would find them, and I would tear my screams from their lungs if that's what it took. Mark my words, no one steals from Chara.

　

 

-

 

People in dark, academic robes parted around me like water, the look in my eyes strong enough to pierce even the thickest, most distracted researcher. Normally, I'm pretty sure men and women of a violent inclination weren't permitted into the University, but I was good at finding other ways. For example, did you know the guards out front loved stories from the Unterzee?

 

Either way, I didn't plan on sticking around long. I wouldn't have had to go there at all if there was anyone worth my time back at Ladybones Road. But no, those dimwits couldn't find their way out of a burlap sack, much less the dead man who robbed me. At least one of them had the sense to point me in the right direction, an old hand who gave up bloody crime scenes for dusty ruins. If they were right, he would be somewhere in Summerset's libraries.

 

If they weren't, I would personally inform them of their error in judgment. Either way, my revolver wouldn't be staying cold for long.

 

The tall shelves were a lot more calm than the roads outside. Illuminated by countless candles, the green and orange coloring denoting which ones were more likely to set your brain ablaze, the only researchers in there were sitting around, reading whatever they could get their hands on. A few toppled over, clutching their heads, and were promptly carted out by overseers. Don't ask me how they got around with their eyes covered up, but it helped them to not see whatever set the readers off.

 

They weren't nearly sturdy enough. If they couldn't handle a few mean words, I had no use for them. In the back corner, where one of them had dropped after experiencing a sudden case of bleeding eye sockets, another brave soul picked up the perpetrating tome. Flipping to the offending page, he only muttered to himself, not a sign of volitile reactions anywhere.

 

Then again, if his eyes were bleeding, I couldn't see it. His cracked, white mask got in the way. There were eye holes, but there was only darkness within. That, along with the modified black scholar robes, would make a lot of people think they were looking at some sort of offshoot of the Masters. But I knew better. And a certain informant could keep their left kidney.

 

"Hmm, curved sigil, almost claw like marks through the center, and a blood thinning effect in the brain. Yes, this could be the one. Need to copy this, expose it to the stones..." I busted into his mutterings, offering the pen I kept in my back pocket just in case. Don't underestimate how useful a pen can be. Actually, do. An ignorant world is easy to pull a trick on.

 

"Ah, brilliant! Thank you much." He wrote kind of weird, holding the pen steady with the hole where his palm should be. Must've wanted total accuracy. I hadn't delved too far into the whole research thing, but I had seen more than enough failed symbol recreations to understand. Trust me, when you see a Spider Council get liquidized, you learn real quick not to mess with the thing that did it. I waited until he was clearly done.

 

"So, am I right in thinking you are one W.D. Gaster?" He tucked the note he had scribbled on away, careful not to crease it. His sockets met mine for the first time. Even as he looked me in the eyes, it felt like his gaze wandered across my whole surface.

 

"That would depend. The mud on your boots is from Ladybones Road, yes?" I nodded, about to ask, but he was too quick. "I thought I recognized the micro fungi mixed into the dried soil. I could only imagine you were there seeking a detective for some grave transgression, but found none you deemed worthwhile."

 

"Uh... Yeah. Could you not so blatantly read my mind like that? If I wanted psychics, I could've gotten Mahogany Hall tickets." He chuckled, but I got the sense it wasn't at me.

 

"Apologies, but I can't quite comply. I've grown too used to seeing things to stop now. Though I suppose I can keep the more invasive observations to myself, especially if I plan on receiving just payment for my services."

 

"So you know what I want."

 

"And you, I. The detective's work and I have grown astranged as of late, but I assure you my talents are still a cut above most. So, if you saw fit to track me down, I assume you didn't do so with empty hands." He held his own out, a gesture I had done more than a few times myself. Of course, where I had the sheer strength to threaten without words, he had this look about him that said, 'I know you will.'

 

Disturbing as it was, he was right. He seemed curious when I passed over nothing but a black file. One peek inside was enough to change his tune.

 

"I... This is..." I swore the smile on his mask somehow got bigger. "Something worth my time to look into. And worth my services. What is your case?" Feducci always pulled through when it came to secrets.

　

 

-

　

 

His personal office was a quiet place, about what you would expect from a guest professor and researcher. There were a few notes on every flat surface, some face up, some face down. I decided not to chance flipping one of those right side up.

 

His desk was something else. I'd seen safes less secure, each of the countless drawers manned by no less than four locks each. If each had its own key, I was amazed Gaster wasn't clanking like a mobile kitchen with every step. On top, next to the lamp, was a magnifying glass mounted to a swiveling arm. A quick glance through it as he swung it over the open desk top and I swore I saw some bacteria squirming around on the far wall.

 

"Alright, may I see that note?" He was a bit startled as I pulled it out, not expecting it to still be attached to the dagger. He did his best to avoid the drying flakes of blood still clinging to the metal. "Hmm, effects of time aside, this seems just as it would be post puncture."

 

"My thoroughness has saved me more than a few times."

 

"And earned you a fair few Echoes, yes? Ah, but I digress. Let's see..." The paper unraveled under his glass, his mind going to work as we agreed. "Tell me, have you thought over this note at all?"

 

"The first part tells me it's not someone with a grudge, which knocks out a good chunk of people. But that part two is rather mental, so perhaps we start with the local asylums?"

 

"Mad it would seem to you, hence why they were comfortable including that verse. But to one such as I, this is a rather common taunt." A tattered roll of paper was drawn from his robes, unraveling to reveal a map of the Neath. Small marks dotted the entirety of Fallen London, but the most were right around the central North. "A thief speaking of the sky can only mean one place, the Flit. Those precarious walkways have saved many a crook from apprehension."

 

"I've been there once or twice. If they really think a few heights can save them, I'll have to teach them a thing or three about me." Gaster placed a hand on my arm.

 

"You had best wait before storming off on me. You forget, there is still one more statement. The mad ones don't care for disturbances. While avoiding them on a few occasions is possible, one cannot stay long in the Flit without crossing the Raggedy Men. If they find you even the slightest bother, you can expect to be rained on by bricks and lengths of pipe. And that is if you are lucky." I could only huff.

 

"I'm not letting some unstable nutters stand between me and my stuff. If we cross paths, I'll be more than happy to return fire." After all, bricks may hurt, but there's little question that bullets are far more effective.

 

"Less of an if, more of a when. The Raggedy Men unite under one man, the Topsy King. He is notorious for providing cover to those he likes, and is no slouch in the villainy department himself. It's only his hoard and environment that keeps the constables from pursuing the hefty bounty on his head. If your thief is so confident in their security, you can be certain that he'll be backing them."

 

My brow grew heavy, and my trigger finger got itchy. Why was I pulled into this? I couldn't just get my stuff back. No, it had to be on the far side of some insane crime lord.

 

"Oh well, I could use some target practice."

　

 

-

 

 

Looking down from the robe bridges was the quickest way to lose a lunch I had ever seen. That kind of distance may have been one of the few paths to a final death in the Neath. No thanks, I would prefer the foe I could fight off over gravity. The bridges themselves weren't helping much, most every plank I stepped on either too small to hold me without bending or too rotten to trust for long.

 

Gaster seemed a lot more used to the nauseating heights, stepping lightly over the rickety crossings as if they were average sidewalks. His intel must've been gathered first hand, hence why he came so highly recommended.

 

"The Topsy Court is up ahead, on that large platform." That made me far happier for many reasons. A step closer to my belongings, and a step closer to not being sent plummeting to my doom by one wayward plank. Reaching under my coat, I popped open the chamber of my revolver, checking to make sure it was fully loaded. "Put that away! Even the slightest sign of agression and the Raggedy Men will become agitated."

 

"Calm down." My gun slid smoothly back into my inner pocket. "I'm making sure it's ready if things get hairy. You think that just because I like the direct approach, I'm unable to be subtle?"

 

"Certainly not. I'm worried about the eyes and ears that could be on us as we speak. For a madman, the Topsy King lets very little get by. He wouldn't be so tricky to capture if he didn't make good use of his connections in the Flit. All it would take is a single urchin seeing that one of us is armed to turn the entire Court on us."

 

"A criminal mastermind taking advice from kids? Sounds too outlandish to me." The boards behind me creaked ever so slightly.

 

"Ai, but ain lossa godens?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the unaware, this chapter's based on the browser game Fallen London. If you haven't played it, go try it. It's one of the best text based games I've ever played and can be experienced free of charge. There are microtransactions, but there's more than enough content to play without them.
> 
> I think the next two chapters will be for a few of the requested games. Probably Minecraft first, for the sheer fun I could get out of it. Not sure which one after that, but I'll be following the second requested game with the next part of the Dark Souls story. Then I'll be back in London, where the cycle will repeat. Two games of my choosing, then two requested games. Sounds fair. Remember, my ears are always open for game ideas.
> 
> In the meantime, I hope to see you in Fallen London. Hold on to your Exceptional Hats, or ol' Psyby might nab 'em from ye'. Ave a goden, my chairy godens!

**Author's Note:**

> Been sitting on this idea for a while. You know how I've been occasionally talking about what games are sidetracking me from writing in other end notes? Well, this is my way of talking about games without taking up end card space. This'll be one of those continuous things, and will probably keep getting chapters until I stop writing around here (parish the thought!) or until I have played and written something about every game ever. Whichever comes first. Don't expect too much big plot here. I'm saving my drama cards for the next side story.
> 
> Speaking of, the votes are in! Or should I say lack thereof. That's fine, I have a coin to flip right here. And the next plot driven side story is... The Mad Dancer! This should be fun. After that, I'll move on to the third main entry for the series. Brutus and company will have to wait until after that.
> 
> Any games you guys want covered here? Drop a comment and I'll get to work. Remember, this is a Rated T story. Don't throw in the explicit stuff. Alright, that should be everything. See you next time with the Dark Souls chapter!


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